


red sun

by liknow



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, Birthday Sex, Blood and Injury, Bondage, Bottom Lee Minho | Lee Know, Crying, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fights, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gangs, HAPPY BIRTHDAY MINHO, Hurt/Comfort, I SWEAR IT'S NOT AS SCARY AS IT SOUNDS, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Mentions of Murder, Non-Graphic Violence, Porn with Feelings, Sexual Content, Smut, Top Han Jisung | Han, Weapons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:01:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26921806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liknow/pseuds/liknow
Summary: Minho and Jisung have been on the run from the older boy's former gang (and many other rivals) for over two years now. Though he's supposed to be out settling a feud, Minho returns home to celebrate his 22nd birthday with his boyfriend instead.aka: A mixture of fluff, smut, and angst with a gang plot thrown in. Happy birthday, my dearest.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 28
Kudos: 201
Collections: MINSUNG SEASON: Colourful Autumn 2020





	red sun

**Author's Note:**

> happy minsung season, everyone!
> 
> this work is my submission for minsung season: colourful autumn. information about the event be found on the @[minsungseason](https://www.twitter.com/minsungseason) twitter, so be sure to check it out!
> 
> my chosen colour inspiration for this fic was **red** (peep the title), signifying _passion_.
> 
> though i included most of these in the tags, to be safe, please mind the **TWs** for descriptions of blood and injury, gangs, references to fighting and murder, weaponry, explicit sexual content, and a very brief reference to sexual harassment. 
> 
> _i promise this fic is a lot more light-hearted than it sounds lol_.
> 
> ♫ gay little [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2gezlBgGkfETDj8Nzbod92?si=Ue_Gk2EfQEWAgMQvREa8yQ) i made

Minho’s hands shook, his legs wobbling as he climbed up the stairs of the apartment complex, skipping every other step. Drops of sweat trickled down his face, mixed with the blood that had somehow made its way there as well while he was taking care of some business.

He was running a little late.

Okay, he was running _two days_ late.

He’d gotten a little carried away when he had left the apartment the week before, parting from his boyfriend with a goodbye kiss and a promise to be home by his own birthday before he headed to his hometown, looking to settle a feud between him and one of the gangs he’d accidentally made enemies with while fighting off his _own_ former gang.

It was... a long story, to say the least.

He'd booked a hotel for three nights, beat the shit out of the target gang’s co-leader, ran for his life for a few hours, was chased back to the hotel the following day, beat the shit out of someone else who, by chance, turned out to be from an entirely _different_ gang that he wasn’t even _trying_ to start problems with, then ended up making a last-minute appointment with his _own_ gang…

Time had escaped him. He spent days hopping hotels and plotting how he’d escape this mess alive (and it certainly wasn’t the first), never stopping save for the few minutes he always put aside to call Jisung and promise him that he was alive and safe.

 _Jisung_. His beloved guardian angel. His _everything_. _Jisung_ , who waited patiently at the temporary apartment they were renting out over 300 miles away from home (they never stayed in the same place for too long—Minho had too many enemies by this point to be safe anywhere in the country). _Jisung,_ who constantly worried for his safety, snapping at him over the phone in a cold voice that was code for _I love you more than anything_ , and _I don’t know what I'd do if you didn't return safely_.

Minho always did his best to ease his boyfriend's worries, even if that meant only telling him _half_ of his tangled history as an ex-gang member or _half_ of his plans to go face an entire group of violent men on his own. He did everything to keep that half of him as far away from Jisung as possible, though it was challenging considering the fact that the younger never left his side, travelling with him back and forth across the country as many times as it’d take to shake Minho of any threat.

Unfortunately, they hadn’t gotten too lucky yet. There always seemed to be some sort of threat. And, well, Minho being a magnet for disaster didn’t help in the slightest.

That’s what landed him in his current predicament. He let out an exhausted groan upon reaching the top of the staircase, wiping trembling hands on dirty sweatpants in attempt to stop the shaking and hide the traces of blood. It was futile, though, and he knew this. Jisung would see through him immediately. He always did.

He didn’t dare approach the apartment door for a solid minute, knowing Jisung was probably at the other side, waiting to swing open the door and tug him in at the slightest indication of his arrival.

Instead, Minho pulled out his phone and checked the few notifications he had from Chan, determined to squash any last-second problems before he checked in for the night and immersed himself in the cherished and unfortunately limited alone time he had with his boyfriend.

 **Bang Chan** : _Minho what were you thinking_

 **Bang** **Chan** : Why _would you stand the guys up? You know they’re just gonna be angrier now…_

Minho sighed. He was grateful for his friend—if he could even call him that. He really was. But he was tired, sore, stressed, and he all could think about at the moment was giving up for the night, falling into Jisung’s arms, getting fucked into the mattress, and enjoying his 22nd birthday in peace.

 **Lee Minho** : _I know_

 **Lee Minho** : _Trust me lol I know_

 **Lee Minho** : _But I swore to my boyfriend I’d be here for my birthday_

Minho never dared say Jisung’s name to anyone, not even Chan, who he partially trusted. They had a complicated relationship, the elder still being a somewhat active member of the gang, though he was a part-time student at the same time, gradually cleaning his slate and beginning to blend into normal society.

But he was still in the gang, the one Minho had betrayed just over two years ago, turned his back on to lead a normal life and seek a future with his very much normal, very innocent boyfriend. (The _normal life_ plan backfired, but his future with Jisung was safely secured at this point.) Chan had always been the kindest to Minho when he was part of the group, and Minho wanted to trust that he had good intentions playing devil’s advocate, keeping his rep as a gang member but tipping Minho off when he could. He wanted to trust that there was someone out there who didn't want his head on a plate (other than his family, boyfriend, and cats back at home).

But he couldn’t risk being vulnerable, couldn’t risk hurting Jisung.

 **Bang Chan** : _You know I know your boyfriend’s name is Han Jisung_

 **Bang Chan** : _We all know who he is_

Minho’s hands shook violently as he typed.

 **Lee Minho** : _You don’t know anything_

He swallowed loud as he tried to keep his panting at bay, not wanting to cause Jisung any more worry than he already had.

 **Bang Chan** : _Whatever_

 **Bang Chan** : _Well, I hope your birthday party is worth it, because the guys are more than likely heading to your city of the month as we speak. And I’d be with them if I didn’t have exams tomorrow_

 **Bang Chan** : _P.S. they might even be there already, if they left early_

 **Bang Chan** : _You’re lucky I even knew about this. They hardly tell me shit anymore_

Minho adjusted his sweatpants as he tried to think of a response, making sure his knife was well hidden and wouldn’t clatter to the ground if he moved around too much.

 **Lee Minho** : _I know. Thank you as always. I’ll deal with everything later_

 **Lee Minho** : _I just need to be with him for right now_

Minho sighed, warily approaching the apartment door since he was officially as composed as he could make himself appear. He was just about to knock when he received one more text.

 **Bang Chan** : _You’d better hurry it up because my guess is that they’ll be there tonight. Don’t want them interrupting your festivities_

 **Bang Chan** : _I’m serious btw. Please be careful_

Minho inhaled deeply in meditation, wiping the sweat off his cheek with the back of his hand, then instantly groaning once he realized he’d just smeared more blood onto his face, right in time for the door to swing open, revealing his beloved.

For a moment, Jisung just stared at him, expression a fine mixture of fatigue, disappointment, and relief. _Fatigue_ because he’d hardly slept in the past two days, _disappointment_ because Minho was covered in blood again, and _relief_ because he was standing in front of his eyes, seemingly in one piece.

“ _Minho,_ ” he sighed out, grabbing one of Minho’s sweatshirt sleeves and tugging him inside the apartment, then quickly shutting the door and securing all of the locks. He turned to the elder once he was done, cupping his face with a deep frown. “What’d you do now?”

Minho tried to smile cheekily in order to lessen the blow. “The doorman that grabbed your ass won’t be bothering you anymore.”

Jisung’s jaw dropped. His voice came out exasperated. “Lee Minho.”

“Don’t get mad!” Minho rushed, pouting a little when the warm hands left his face. Abruptly, though, Jisung's fingers were tightening around his chin, holding his face still to firmly maintain their eye contact.

“Please tell me you didn’t kill him,” he said quietly.

“I _didn’t_ ,” Minho whined, visibly upset that his boyfriend would accuse him of such a thing (though he _did_ have his valid reasons to). “Didn’t kill him, just damaged him.”

“ _Minho_ ,” Jisung groaned again, releasing the elder's chin to rub at his own face in distress.

Minho's lower lip trembled at the sight. Jisung stressed and upset—on _his_ behalf—was the very last thing he needed to see right now. “...Please don’t be mad.”

Jisung made an unintelligible noise in response, sighing out a muffled, “Minho, _so_ many people could’ve seen.”

“No one did,” Minho rushed, reaching out to hold Jisung’s waist, strongly disliking the fact that he hadn’t received his usual welcome home kiss yet. “It’s the middle of the night, Jisungie. I was careful.”

Jisung only eyed him tiredly. “You can’t do that again, Min.”

“I won’t,” Minho blurted, and he was lying. Of course he would do it again. He'd absolutely destroy _anyone_ who tried to touch a hair on his boyfriend's head. But he needed the conversation to end, needed to wipe that frown off Jisung’s lips—lips that should’ve been on _his_ by now. He tried to change the subject. “Where’s my welcome home kiss?”

“This isn’t our home,” Jisung deadpanned.

Minho pouted, heartbroken that he’d put Jisung in a bad mood only moments after returning. He swallowed. “Okay, then… my birthday kiss?”

“It’s not midnight yet. And you have blood on you, Minho.”

Minho couldn’t help but tear up at the bitterness in his boyfriend’s voice, already beginning to regret dragging the apartment doorman into the alley across from the building and beating him unconscious—considering _this_ is what he got in return.

Jisung softened immediately at the sight of the wetness gathered in Minho's eyes, sighing as he gently cupped the elder’s face and left a soft kiss against his forehead, where there was no mistakenly smeared blood.

“Give me your clothes, and get in the shower, honey,” he said sternly, but his voice had warmed up a considerable amount. “I’ll go put them in the wash, okay? No one will be in the laundry room right now.”

Minho nodded, biting his lip as he pulled his sweatshirt and the tee shirt underneath over his head. He looked at Jisung pleadingly while he started to shimmy out of the rest of his clothes.

“Kiss?” He pursed his lips.

“Kiss after, baby,” Jisung tutted, lightly flicking his forehead. “Go get nice and clean for me, okay? Then we can celebrate your birthday.”

Minho sighed, though he didn’t argue, knowing very well that Jisung didn’t like seeing him covered in blood after fights. Hell, he was still emotionally scarred from the first time it had happened.

* * *

Jisung was only nineteen when it all began, when Minho showed up on his doorstep, trembling from head to toe, sweatshirt soaked in sweat and blood.

“Minho...” He spoke slowly, cautiously, to his boyfriend of five months. “What… What did you do?”

Minho only sobbed.

“Did someone hurt you? Did _you_ hurt someone?”

He nodded to both questions, sniffling loudly as he tried to control his shaky breathing.

"Okay..." Jisung exhaled, trying to remain calm, but _fuck_ —he'd never witnessed anything like this before. “How’d you get here?” He looked out for a car, a motorbike, anything.

“Walked,” Minho choked out, reaching up to cover his face with his hands before seemingly remembering the blood coating his palms and dropping them to his sides again.

Jisung sighed, rubbing his temple, immensely confused and concerned for his boyfriend. 

“Baby, you live three miles away... Did anyone see you?”

Minho shook his head, another sob escaping his throat. His body practically vibrated with shudders. Jisung’s first instinct was to pull him into his arms and console him, but the alarming amount of blood drenching his clothes held him back.

"All right... Come in, tell me what happened. And give me your clothes.”

The elder hobbled inside, face scrunched up as he tried to stop his tears. Jisung's heart broke at the sight, his mind racing a million miles per second.

He'd seen Minho with little cuts and bruises before, lectured him time from time to be careful and try not to get into any fights. It was well known to him that his boyfriend had a short fuse (at least around anyone who _wasn't_ Jisung). But this... This was beyond anything he could've imagined.

"Please don't hate me, I—" Minho babbled once the door was tightly shut behind him, but his words were quickly overpowered by the sobs continuing to leave his throat against his will. He managed to slip off his shoes and socks but then instantly started to crumble, sinking down to a crouch. Jisung's arms instinctually grabbed him to hold him upright, stopping him from collapsing completely.

"Hey, no, come on," Jisung whispered soothingly, trying not to wince as he felt the wet blood seep onto his own clothes. "Can you walk to the bathroom—do you need me to carry you?"

Fear continued to thrum in his veins at the possibilities of what Minho may have done to end up in such a state, but the inherent need to take care of his boyfriend was quickly taking over. He sighed, not waiting for an answer before he scooped the elder up, quickly rushing him over to the bathroom of the small apartment he was renting for the summer.

Jisung placed Minho in the shower, trying not to let his own arms shake as he tugged Minho's slightly torn shirt over his head, squeezing his eyes shut to avoid growing nauseous at the sight of the blood soaking it. Minho stared at him in horror, the realization that his boyfriend had a fear of blood quickly dawning on him.

He sobbed louder. "I'm so sorry," he whispered between cries.

"Don't," Jisung cut him off gently. "Fuck it, I'm just gonna turn the shower on now, okay?"

He didn't wait for a response, desperate to rid Minho of the blood and bruises staining his skin, then attempt to forget the image forever. He rapidly turned the shower handle, hushing Minho apologetically as the elder yelped at the icy water.

"C'mere," he breathed, unbuttoning Minho's jeans with shaky fingers before they could get too wet. Minho finally pitched in, helping Jisung push down his jeans and underwear and pile them next to their feet so the water could rinse out most of the blood.

Jisung flinched at the reddened water entering the drain, squeezing his eyes shut again. "Jesus _Christ_."

"I'm sorry," Minho cried again, legs wobbling as he attempted to stay upright under the warming spray of the shower. "Pl-Please don't hate me."

Jisung swallowed hard, blindly reaching for where he knew the soap was and pressing it into Minho's hands. Minho watched him with tears continuing to leak from his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Just..." Jisung opened his eyes again, relieved to see that most of the blood had disappeared from Minho's body already. "Just tell me what happened."

Minho bit his lip, staring down at the shower drain instead of meeting Jisung's eyes. Jisung's stomach sank, the silence confirming the worst of his fears.

"You killed someone, didn't you?"

Minho started shaking harder, Jisung unable to help himself as he pulled his boyfriend into his arms in attempt to comfort him and keep him from falling to the ground again.

What the fuck had he gotten himself into?

For a few minutes, Minho only let out sniffles and muffled cries against Jisung's shoulder—the younger's pajamas were soaked now, but he couldn't be bothered to worry about that at the moment.

Jisung exhaled shakily, reaching one hand up to grip Minho's hair at the back of his head as he tried to steady his own heartbeat.

Finally, Minho spoke. "Didn't mean to..."

Jisung sighed a little, the words relieving him slightly, but they didn't change the fact that Minho did... _that._

"Okay." Jisung kissed a small bruise on Minho's bare shoulder, head pounding in distress. "Tell me what happened. Did anyone see?"

If he was any normal person, he'd have screamed at the top of his lungs, called the police, and told Minho that he couldn't associate with someone like him. But somehow, he knew in his heart that this was still the sweetheart he'd known for the past five months, regardless of what horrors may have occurred behind his back. He was still…

He was still the same person he'd fallen in love with.

"Minho," he whispered after a few more minutes of silence. "Baby, please, just tell me _something._ I don't know what to think right now."

Minho shuddered, a quiet sob escaping his throat. He whispered one word.

"Gang."

Jisung froze. Had he heard that right?

"Gang...?" he mumbled, pulling away from Minho to cup his face. _Sure,_ Minho had a short fuse, and _sure,_ Jisung didn't know a whole lot about his upbringing, and _sure,_ he had scars and cuts and the occasional bruise, but... "Are you—are you in a gang?"

Minho shook his head slowly, blinking out another stream of tears.

"Used to..."

Jisung let out a stuttered sigh. "You used to be in a gang."

Minho nodded, his lower lip shaking again. "I'm sorry."

"Okay," Jisung said, kissing his cheek before he reached to turn the shower off. "Just tell me if someone's going to show up here or not."

Minho shook his head, hands reaching up to push the wet hair out of his own eyes.

"They lost me," he whispered, voice raspy from sobbing. "'M good at this kind of thing."

Jisung's head pounded. He wasn't too pleased with the knowledge that Minho had run from gang members enough times to become _good_ at it, but the fact that he was safe for the time being was at least somewhat relieving.

He didn't push for more info for a while after that, needing time to process everything himself first. That night, he fell asleep with Minho curled around him, limbs clinging to him painfully tight. Admittedly, it took Jisung hours to reach unconsciousness, waiting until Minho's sniffles quieted into silence before he let his eyes flutter shut in peace.

That was the last night of _peace_ they'd had.

The next morning, Minho left Jisung's house with puffy eyes and borrowed clothes, promising to text him once he arrived home safely.

He didn't arrive home safely. They were there, waiting for him. Almost ten of them.

He returned to Jisung's an hour later, covered in sweat and his own blood again, a terrifying looking bruise covering nearly half of his face.

After that, Jisung vowed to never leave his side again.

It took days to coax more information out of Minho. Jisung tried to be patient, he really _did,_ but it was hard to drop everything and defend your boyfriend from a crime with almost no information on said crime.

Minho was down in the sheets of Jisung's bed, between his thighs with a mouthful of cock, when he seemingly decided that it was time to throw his boyfriend a bone. He pulled off to catch his breath, squeezing Jisung's hand to grab his attention.

"What is it, baby?" Jisung panted.

"The guy I killed..." Minho muttered. "He wasn't from my gang."

Jisung blinked, taking several seconds to just stare down at the elder.

Never in his life had he lost a boner so fast.

He sat up with a sigh, running a hand through his hair, unsure of how to go about pressing for more information—especially in his arousal-clouded state of mind.

"You..." He huffed out a startled laugh. "I'm glad you told me and all, but— _baby,_ why'd you wait till you were sucking me off to say something?"

Minho's eyes grew apologetic, as if he hadn't even taken into account the poor timing of his confession.

"Sorry," he murmured, sheepish, trying to guide Jisung's cock back to his lips, but Jisung quickly stopped him, hands pulling at his hair.

"No, no." He laughed again, face flushing, tugging Minho's body so he was seated in his lap now. "Forget about it. Can you..." He brushed Minho's hair out of his face, trying to tread as carefully as possible. "Elaborate?"

Minho hummed, a small frown appearing on his lips as he shifted around so he was lying with his face tucked against Jisung's neck.

"He was the leader of a rival gang," he whispered, so quietly Jisung had to strain himself to hear every word. "I, um. I left... I left..." He dug his nails into Jisung's side, blatantly overwhelmed.

"Hey, it's okay," Jisung mumbled sadly, petting Minho's hair. "You left...?"

"I left the gang five months ago," he rushed out.

Oh. _Five months_.

Minho didn't let Jisung respond before he continued rambling. "I left, but our rivals still view me as an enemy. It's not really possible to escape that sort of thing. I don't mean to get into fights, but sometimes they find me, or my old gang finds me." He released his clutch on Jisung's side, rubbing his fingers over the skin to soothe it.

"Makes sense," Jisung whispered, hoping Minho couldn't hear his heart stuttering loudly. He had left his gang the _exact time_ he'd starting dating Jisung.

It somehow didn't feel like a coincidence.

"Anyway," Minho breathed. "I've never—I never. I've never killed anyone, before..."

Jisung combed his fingers through his boyfriend's hair as he listened.

"But, he. He had a gun. And he started threatening..." Minho started to shake, Jisung hushing him and hugging him tightly as he continued. "He—they know I'm seeing someone. Everyone seems to know. I mean, that's why I..."

Jisung inhaled sharply.

"You left your gang because of me?" he asked quietly, though he already knew the answer.

Minho hummed in response, and Jisung could tell without looking that he was close to crying.

"I just..." he whimpered, burying his face in Jisung's neck so his words were muffled. "I know it sounds stupid, because we had just started dating, but I... didn't want anything bad to happen to you."

Jisung trembled at the words. All of this... Minho had gone through all of this for _him?_

"Didn't do a great job of that, though," Minho mumbled, voice choked. "And now I probably have to fucking leave the province; there's no way they'll let me get out of this alive... My gang _and_ the other one. I... It was their leader, the one I killed."

Jisung sniffled, tears in his eyes, still in disbelief that Minho had done something this serious in attempt to protect him. He couldn't help the words that spilled from his lips after, even if he tried. 

"I'll go with you."

Minho tensed in his arms, pulling away to gaze at him with wide eyes, tears dripping down his injured face. "Wha-What?"

"I don't want to see you like this ever again," Jisung breathed, the words tumbling from his lips before they even ran through his head. He just barely grazed his fingertips across the bruise on Minho's cheek. "I'll go with you."

Minho's mouth opened and closed several times, body shaking as he cried harder.

"You can't do that for me," he choked. "What will your parents say—"

"Minho, you did all of that for _me,_ " Jisung cut him off, swallowing as he wiped the tears from his boyfriend's face, then his own. "I... I'll tell them we're traveling for the rest of the summer, or... It doesn't matter. I'll come up with something."

An unexpected routine fell into place after that. Two days later, Jisung was hauling a ginormous suitcase out of his house after arguing with the landlord for two hours—eventually, he got out of the temporary lease with a _family emergency._ And then he was off, driving Minho over to his place where they scoured the area for any potential threats before Minho darted in to pack everything he might've needed.

Originally, they had rented an apartment for the rest of the summer, 50 miles away from their hometown, but of course—to Minho’s luck—they were followed and nearly ambushed days later. They then scurried along, pushing 100 miles, only to have one of Minho’s ex-gang members track down his phone by some means. One week later, they were on the road again.

Somehow, the situation only escalated as the years went by. Though they’d become better at staying in one place for a while without disturbance, Minho was a true magnet for catastrophe, his list of enemies constantly multiplying behind Jisung’s back.

Jisung hated it. He hated the thought of anyone wanting to harm his sweet, lovely _Minho,_ who could hardly sleep a wink if he wasn’t curled up on Jisung’s chest, or at least whispering on the phone with him if he was away. _Minho_ , who giggled at the smallest things and teared up when he didn't receive _welcome home_ kisses.

* * *

Jisung ran a hand through his hair in concern as he carried the lump of dirty clothes in one arm down to the first floor, where the laundry room was. He shuddered when he noticed the unusual emptiness of the lobby. The perverted doorman who normally took the night shift was nowhere to be seen.

He leaned forward against the washing machine as it started running, pressing his face into his hands as he tried to forget the image of his boyfriend that he’d grown _far_ too familiar with over the course of two years. _Minho was home. He was okay. He was safe._ And that would have to be good enough, at least for tonight.

Tonight was a very special night—and not just because it was Minho’s birthday. Jisung suddenly felt around in the pocket of his joggers, checking to make sure that the small box was still there.

“Jisungie?” a quiet voice called out. Jisung whipped around, hand retracting from his pocket in a way that he hoped was subtle. He did _not_ want to propose to his boyfriend in the trashy fucking laundry room, of all places. To be honest, their current apartment wasn’t so much better, but it would have to do. He couldn’t wait another night.

Jisung smiled on instinct at the sight before his eyes. Minho stood clean and glistening in the shitty lighting, wet hair falling into his face cutely, looking unbelievably tiny all wrapped up in a fluffy red bathrobe that he must’ve pulled from Jisung’s suitcase.

Jisung almost wanted to marry him on the spot, in the trashy laundry room and all.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he whispered, finally approaching his boyfriend and kissing him hard on the mouth. Minho’s hands instantly went to his shoulders, gripping the material of his hoodie with needy fingers, a soft sigh leaving his lips.

Jisung pulled away after a moment, brushing Minho’s slightly grown out hair (that he secretly didn’t want to cut, despite the elder’s complaints that it was becoming an inconvenience while he was trying to beat the shit out of gang members, or whatever) out of his face.

“Let’s go up to the room, baby, what are you doing down here all naked?”

Minho blushed, intertwining his fingers with Jisung’s as they left the washing machine running and headed back to the staircase.

“I’m not naked,” he argued, flapping around the baggy sleeve of the bathrobe for emphasis. “Just missed you. Plus, there’s no pervy doorman left to see me, anyway.”

Jisung tensed a little at the joke, abruptly coming back to his senses. Minho may have looked squeaky clean and pure _now,_ but he’d been up to unspeakable things the past several days, and more importantly (to Jisung, at least), he probably wasn’t unscathed.

“Let me see your wounds when we get back,” he said gently, though his tone was serious, leaving no room for argument.

“I’m okay,” Minho assured in a small, ashamed voice.

“I know. I’d know if you weren’t.” Jisung unlocked the door, lightly pulling Minho inside and telling him to get on the bed as he redid the locks, checking them over multiple times to be safe. They never knew when someone would find them—unfortunately, it happened more often than not.

He approached Minho at last, who sat timidly at the edge of the bed, legs swinging a little, hands balled up in his lap. Jisung checked those first, knowing that the most harm was usually caused to his knuckles, for obvious reasons. He frowned at the redness, thumbing with extreme tenderness over a painful looking cut on his ring finger. At least the blood seemed to be washed off completely.

Jisung took his face into his hands then, relieved to see there was no new bruising of any sort. Just a pair of tired eyes that sparkled even in the dim lighting of their room, and a small pout that was quickly kissed away.

“How bad is he? The doorman?” he asked softly as he pulled away from Minho’s mouth, staring into his eyes intently, ready to detect any lie or attempt to sugarcoat. “Don’t lie to me, baby.”

“He’s… kinda bad,” Minho sighed, looking down at his lap for a moment before his head snapped up to meet Jisung’s eyes again, worry flooding his features at his boyfriend’s pained expression. “But he won’t tell! I swear, Jisung.” He lowered his voice a little. “I… had a knife to his throat. He definitely won’t tell.”

“ _Minho_ ,” Jisung snapped.

“Don’t yell,” Minho whined quietly, hating the look of distress that inevitably made its way back onto Jisung’s face, time after time. Jisung sighed, caressing Minho’s cheek softly despite his anger.

“Okay,” he said after a few seconds, doing his best to follow Minho’s wishes and not dwell on it for the moment. “But I’m calling the landlord tomorrow. We’re not waiting till the end of the month to leave. They probably already know you’re here, babe, and now the doorman thing—”

“I _told_ you no one saw,” Minho cut him off, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

“And you know I can’t risk it,” Jisung countered, thumbing at the sides of Minho's face, which looked _far_ too harmless for the face of someone who had just drawn a knife on an apartment doorman. “Why’d you do it, baby?”

Minho’s lower lip shook. He hated how many times he’d heard those words. “I can’t let anyone lay a finger on you.”

“I’m fine, Minho,” Jisung murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of Minho’s head, taking his hands again. “I can take care of myself when you aren’t here, understand? But I can’t take care of you when you’re miles away getting into trouble, sweetheart. Next thing you know, you’ll be behind bars again, and who knows if you’ll get out next time.”

He was referring to an instance from the year before, when Minho found himself caught up in a fight that was a little too public to go unnoticed by officials. He’d ended up locked up for several nights, nearly sending Jisung into a _meltdown_ thinking he’d lose the love of his life forever, when some filthy rich CEO of some company that Minho had some connection to paid off a judge to release Minho on bail _and_ drop all charges.

Jisung still didn’t understand exactly how that had happened, nor how Minho had gotten so lucky at that moment. Minho tended to leave things like this unexplained, and Jisung had grown used to it, as long as he was safe. But he certainly didn’t want to be put in the same situation again.

Minho squeezed Jisung’s hands, staring up at him with wide eyes that screamed _innocence_ (but of course, Jisung knew better than that).

“I’m sorry,” Minho whispered, a tear rolling down the soft skin of his cheek. “But don’t be mad, please. I was just trying to protect you.”

Jisung fought hard to stay composed at the sight, but his walls were crashing down before he could even attempt to keep them up. He wiped Minho’s tear, pressing a gentle kiss to his nose.

“Don’t cry, baby. I know you were,” he whispered back, kissing his forehead next, then his wet cheek, then his lips. “You’re so good to me.” He kissed his lips again. “You’re such a good boy.”

Minho whimpered quietly, sniffling as the tears slowed to a stop. Jisung’s words were like medicine to him. He tilted his head up for another kiss, which Jisung gave him without thought.

“So, where’s my birthday present?”

Jisung scoffed. “Don’t be impatient. Let me check your bruises, baby.” He started to untie the red robe that Minho was buried in, pushing it open to see his relievingly bare torso, only the shadow of an old bruise remaining on his hip.

He bit his lip when he noticed Minho’s cock hard against his stomach, trying to stifle a laugh at the unexpected sight.

“Missed me that much?” he teased, giggling quietly despite himself as he slowly trailed a finger up the length of it. “What were you thinking about in the shower, huh?”

Minho’s face flushed, back arching into the slight touch. “Don’t be mean to me,” he whined, squirming around. “It’s my birthday.”

“ _Almost_ ,” Jisung corrected him. “It’s only eleven. Are you in pain?”

Minho blinked up at him, trying to gauge if this question would change Jisung’s mind about doing anything sexual tonight. “I want you,” he finally said.

“That’s not what I asked.” Jisung ran his fingers along Minho’s thighs and down his legs, which thankfully looked unharmed, for the most part.

“I’m _fine,_ Jisung. I need you. Very much.”

Jisung hummed in response, knowing damn well he could never resist the way Minho was pouting up at him with needy eyes, cock somehow still hard even after Jisung had made him cry during his interrogation. He looked completely vulnerable right now, for once, eyes shining brightly as though there was nothing he wanted more in the world than Jisung. And he _didn’t._ Jisung knew that, and the feeling had long been mutual.

That’s why they were constantly on the move, even two years after all of this had started. Were they tired of running? Absolutely. More than enough times, one of the two had collapsed on the other in tears, mumbling incoherent pleas for the world to just stop spinning for a little while. For a month, a day, a _moment,_ even. But nothing ever stopped, and they didn’t stop, either. Minho couldn’t risk Jisung getting hurt, and Jisung couldn’t dare to leave Minho’s side.

Jisung exhaled, eyes raking down Minho’s body. “Lie back, baby.”

Minho readily complied, shuffling to lie against the pillows without bothering to remove the bathrobe. Jisung smiled fondly at the sight, crossing the room to rummage through his suitcase for a moment. (He didn’t like to unpack much whenever they moved in somewhere, regardless of whether they were planning to stay for weeks or even months. He couldn’t let his guard down, for their plans were always subject to change. They could be rushing to evacuate in the blink of the eye, running off to their next sanctuary.)

He returned a few seconds later, a greatly familiar bottle of lube in one hand and a cheap gift bag in the other, decorated in little red hearts and containing Minho’s birthday gift. Well, _part_ of his gift—the other part was buried away in Jisung’s pocket for the moment.

“What’s in there?” Minho asked, lips parted as he eyed the gift bag. Jisung wordlessly handed it to him, heart pulsing in his chest at the sight of his boyfriend eagerly pulling the tissue paper out of the bag and throwing it at him in excitement.

He had not a hint of regret about the item in his pocket.

Minho’s eyes grew wide for a moment, but they quickly turned soft and glassy as he pulled a choker out of the bag, dark red felt with a little sun charm dangling at the center.

The sun had long ago become a symbol between the two, when Minho first revealed to Jisung that the little red circle tattoo on his hip bone was a signature from his days in the gang. Jisung had immediately suggested getting it altered so he wouldn’t have to live with the reminder anymore, which is how the two of them ended up walking out of a tattoo parlor later that day with matching red suns on their hip bones.

Minho's eyes sparkled when they met Jisung’s.

“A new choker. With our sun on it.” He made grabby hands at Jisung, who beamed and moved toward the bed to kiss his lips briefly. “I love you.”

“I love you more. Come here,” Jisung replied, pulling the elder into a deeper kiss, his tongue pressing past his lips. Minho let out a content hum, though he soon pulled away to focus on securing the choker around his neck and with a shy smile.

“Are you going to tie me up today?” he asked timidly when he was finished, pulling out the other item in the bag: a long, shimmering strip of silk, just a few shades lighter than the felt choker around his neck. Jisung laughed at his poorly concealed excitement, leaning forward to peck his lips again.

“If that’s what you want, birthday boy.”

Minho blinked up at him, glowing, pupils dilated to the size of the moon.

“Yes please,” he whispered. He must’ve brought up the idea about one hundred times in the past. He liked being pinned down, and Jisung had no problem doing it with his own two hands, but he always brushed off the idea of doing anything more with a clipped _I can’t think about buying sex toys right now, Minho; I still don’t know where we’ll be sleeping next week._

Jisung took the silk out of Minho’s hands and placed it to the side for the moment. “Are you sure you’re not in pain?” he checked again with a frown. “Didn’t you say you were going to meet up with half of them earlier? How’d you even make it out in one piece?”

“They didn’t show up,” Minho lied. Jisung didn’t need to know that he’d stood them up, choosing to rush home to his boyfriend to celebrate his birthday instead of settling the out-of-control problems he’d been having with his former gang. He bit his lip, blushing a little and trying to push the strip of silk into Jisung’s hands. “Please.”

“Patience, baby,” Jisung scolded, the loving smile on his face contrasting his tone. “There’s another present I have to give you first.”

Minho cocked his head to the side. “A birthday kiss?”

“Even better.” He took a deep breath, heart pounding as his hand crept into his pocket and retrieved the tiny box. “It’s…”

Jisung slowly opened the box for him without looking at it, eyes steadily watching his boyfriend’s reaction. Minho’s jaw slowly dropped, fingers instantly releasing the silk as his hands began to shake.

“ _Jisung?_ ”

Jisung crept forward on the bed, taking one of Minho’s hands in his and pressing a kiss to the red knuckles.

“This may not be the best way to do this, or the right place,” Jisung said nervously. “But I know it’s the right time, and I think you do, too. I just want you to be mine, forever.”

Minho’s mouth opened and closed, no words coming out as he stared at the silver band in the little box, hands trembling while he pulled it out. He met Jisung’s eyes again, more tears beginning to spill from his eyes.

“You really want to marry me?” he whimpered.

“ _Baby,_ ” Jisung murmured, tears welling up in his own eyes. He reached forward to kiss Minho. “Of course I do. I don’t care when, or how. But I promise we’ll find a way, when this is all over.”

Minho whined, dropping the little box in his lap as he reached up to wipe at his eyes and cover his face, completely overwhelmed with emotion.

“Don’t hide,” Jisung giggled, wiping a tear from his own cheek as he tugged at Minho’s hands. “Here, baby, want me to put it on for you?”

“Yes, please.” Minho sniffled, watching in awe as Jisung carefully took the ring from him and slid it onto his finger, giving it a delicate kiss.

“I promise I’ll get you one, too, as soon as I can,” Minho whispered shyly. He looked up at the younger, then, eyes narrowing. “Wait. How did you even…?”

Jisung bit his lip, ruffling Minho's hair with a wink. “You’re not the only one with big-shot connections, honey.”

Minho shook his head with a quiet laugh, cheeks still red, eyes still wide in disbelief. He swallowed loudly, hands finding the silk strip again and handing it back to Jisung.

Jisung gave him a teasing glare. “We just got engaged, and all you care about is getting tied up, huh?”

“No!” Minho cried, sitting up a little, cheeks flushing darker. “I just… love you… and wanna, you know…” He whined in embarrassment at the amused smile Jisung gave him. “It’s my _birthday_ , come on. Stop being mean already.”

“Shh, baby,” Jisung quieted him with a warm smile, dropping a kiss to his forehead as he straightened out the silk in his hands. “You know I’m just teasing. Can you put your arms above your head for me now?”

Minho inhaled in anticipation, complying immediately.

“Good boy,” Jisung breathed, leaning forward to wrap the piece of silk around his wrists, binding them together as he tied a firm knot, though he did his best to make it loose enough to prevent any malfunctions.

He smiled down at Minho, who was now looking at him enthusiastically, completely blissed out at the new restriction. “Feel okay, baby? Is it too tight or anything?”

Minho rapidly shook his head.

“Perfect,” he whispered. “Touch me, please, I missed you so much.” 

Jisung quietly laughed at the words, dipping down to kiss across Minho’s neck, sucking gently by his collarbone, wanting his skin to bloom red from kisses instead of other things. Minho let out a stuttered sigh as Jisung continued his way down his torso, hands roaming as he sucked at one of his nipples for a minute then moved down further. He kissed a trail toward his hip bone, where the little red sun gleamed up at him, licking across it to hear Minho gasp quietly.

“Don’t tease me, Jisung, please,” he begged, squirming around.

Jisung only grinned at him as he slowly parted his thighs. “Hmm, but you took your precious time coming home this week, so I think _I’ll_ take my time with you, now.” 

Minho whined defeatedly but offered no argument. He’d be lying if he said being at his boyfriend— _fiancé’s_ mercy all night wasn’t the exact way he wanted to spend his birthday. He let out another quiet whimper as Jisung sucked softly at the skin of his inner thigh, biting and leaving lingering kisses as he pleased.

To Minho’s relief, Jisung was seemingly exaggerating about taking his time, though, because he was soon reaching across the bed for the bottle of lube they’d forgotten about while going through the presents.

“Please,” Minho whispered, but he didn’t need to ask—Jisung was already gazing at him darkly while he drizzled lube onto his fingers, spreading it around before parting the elder’s thighs more. Minho cried out softly as one of Jisung’s fingers pressed cautiously against his hole and slid inside.

"Easy, babe," Jisung whispered with a small smile, watching fondly as Minho's eyes fluttered shut and face scrunched up the tiniest bit. He moved his finger at an excruciatingly slow pace just to revel in Minho's every movement, every reaction to being touched.

"Jisung," Minho sighed, but he didn't bother begging his fiancé to speed up, knowing it would only make him want to take even _longer_ and work him up even _more_. Much to his satisfaction, his patience earned him a second finger moments later, stretching him the slightest bit more. “ _Ah.”_

"You look so pretty tied up for me," Jisung murmured, gaze fixated on the silk wrapped around Minho's wrists—suddenly he wondered why he'd taken so long to give into Minho's whining and begging to try bondage. He looked _breathtaking_ like this. "All mine. Forever."

" _Mm_ ," is all Minho could manage, ears rosy red at the praises. He peeled his eyes open to stare up at Jisung needily, biting his lip as he contemplated asking for more.

"What is it, baby?" Jisung asked, but he already knew the answer and slipped in a third finger without making Minho voice it.

Minho threw his head back with a soft sigh, thighs shaking as Jisung's fingers slowly prodded into him, searching for his prostate. He found it quickly—he always did, somehow—fingers curling and pressing against it just right. Minho moaned loud, wrists twitching against the silk, head jerking to the side.

"So cute," Jisung teased.

Minho pouted. "Kiss?"

"Anything for the birthday boy." Jisung moved forward to kiss him slowly, cupping the side of his face with his free hand, smiling against his mouth when he let out a quiet, needy whimper. And then he was pulling away, scooting down Minho's body to press kisses across every inch of his skin again.

"H-Hey," Minho breathed, ears burning as Jisung's lips treaded carefully up his inner thigh.

"Hey what?" Jisung asked, hot breath fanning over Minho’s skin and making him shudder.

Minho didn’t answer, only whined quietly as Jisungs fingers left his hole, hands moving to spread his thighs apart. “ _Oh_ ,” he squeaked when Jisungs tongue suddenly swiped across his rim. His back arched with a sharp gasp.

“Okay, baby?” Jisung checked, pulling back to smile at how flustered Minho was already. It had been _far_ too long since they’d done anything like this.

“Ye-Yes,” Minho stammered, embarrassed, eyes squeezing shut once Jisung went back down, tongue sliding into him now, lips pressed to his rim. He let out a shuddery breath, hands twisting around helplessly against the silk.

Jisung didn’t let up for several minutes, only pulled back every now and then to catch Minho’s reactions and grin before teasing him more, fingers pressing marks into his thighs where he held them open.

Minho let Jisung take him apart piece by piece, only releasing soft whines and squirming around periodically.

“You’re so good,” Jisung whispered as he pressed his three fingers back in again, thrusting them slowly and using his free hand to curl around Minho’s cock. He sucked hickeys across Minho’s lower stomach, breath hitting his skin in airy laughs every time he whimpered.

Once Minho's torso was practically painted in marks of his own making, Jisung wrapped his lips around his cock, gradually sinking down, sucking hard, wanting to overwhelm him with pleasure. Minho’s thighs tensed, a high moan echoing throughout the room.

“Quiet,” Jisung whispered with spit-coated lips, fingers rubbing against Minho's prostate now. Minho hardly registered the word, breathy whines continuing to slip off his tongue, back arching dramatically at Jisung’s every touch.

Jisung only smiled, dipping down to slide his tongue back in alongside his fingers now, using his other hand to stroke Minho fast. Minho's entire body shook, hands helplessly balling into fists above his head, the feeling of the silk restraining him making his head spin in circles.

“Ji—” he cried, tears forming in the corners of his eyes, body convulsing at the stimulation. Jisung removed his tongue again so he could focus on using his hands and keep a careful eye on Minho. His fingers rubbed at his slit relentlessly, fingers pressing into him hard, eyes staring into his, and—

Minho’s orgasm hit him all at once. He let out a choked whine, thighs thrashing against the bed as he came all over his stomach with a weak cry, cheeks burning bright red at his inability to restrain himself.

Jisung cooed at the sight, while Minho squeezed his eyes shut in embarrassment.

“Oh, _look_ at you,” Jisung murmured, fingers trailing through the cum coating the elder’s chest. Minho grappled at the silk tying him up, desperately wishing he could cover his flushed face.

“Sorry,” he breathed, eyes slowly opening. He hadn’t cum that fast in a while (except for the cases in which he _had_ to cum as soon as possible before hitting the road).

“Shh, don’t apologize,” Jisung whispered, biting his lip at the sight. “You’re cute.”

He dipped down to lick the cum off Minho’s stomach, eyes crinkling in amusement when he heard his stuttered gasp, body twitching.

“Jisung…” he cried weakly once the younger grabbed his cock again to suck on the leaking tip. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Please fuck me already.”

“Alright, baby,” Jisung agreed, pulling back once Minho’s torso was clean to find the bottle of lube again. He shimmied out of his own sweatpants and underwear, tugging his shirt over his head, eyes hardly able to part with the sight of Minho laid out pliant for him, fluffy bathrobe and prettily tied wrists and all.

Neither of them spoke as Jisung coated his cock in lube, only gazed at each other with unspoken words they'd already said a million times. He then moved forward and ran his hands along Minho’s thighs, both of them unbothered by the lube smearing across his skin.

“Please,” Minho whispered. 

Jisung hushed him with a gentle kiss, gripping his thighs and pushing them so they were pressed tightly against his chest. A soft breath left Minho’s lips, eyes blinking up at Jisung expectantly.

“Pretty baby,” Jisung murmured, shuffling forward and peeling one of his hands from Minho’s thighs to line himself up against his hole. He took his precious time pushing in, inspecting Minho's face and gauging his expressions as he filled him completely.

Minho whimpered, back arching again, eyebrows furrowed.

"Okay?" Jisung whispered, balancing on one elbow while he cupped Minho's face, thumb stroking over his cheekbone. "Should I go slow?"

" _No!_ " Minho cried. "Fast. Hard."

Jisung hummed, sitting up on his knees more to draw back from Minho and thrust in experimentally. He smiled at the quiet noise Minho made, firmly holding his thighs against his chest again as he started to fuck into him steadily.

Minho was a crying mess, more than obviously sensitive after cumming already. His hands squirmed around against the pillows, thighs shaking even under Jisung's tight grip.

" _Fuck,_ you look so cute," Jisung groaned, taking in the sight of Minho drowning in the red bathrobe, the blush across his neck and cheeks nearly matching its shade. He dipped down to drag his tongue across Minho's collarbone, sucking hard right above it as he quickened the pace of his hips.

Minho keened, voice high and whiny, head falling back against the pillows to expose his throat more. Jisung took the opportunity to press kisses there, as well, shifting to angle his thrusts better.

"Ah, _ah_ , Jisungie," Minho moaned, and though his whines were music to Jisung's ears, he sure as hell didn't need any of the other apartment tenants angrily knocking at their door tonight ( _yes,_ it had happened before).

"Shh, you know the walls are thin," he murmured, grabbing Minho's chin and tilting his face back down to silence him with a kiss. Minho whimpered quietly as Jisung's tongue lapped at his, arching up, pressing their bodies closer together.

" _Feels good,_ " he panted out between kisses.

“I know.” Jisung stared down at him softly, slowing for a moment. “I’ll make it feel even better.” He then moved to his knees fully and started thrusting _fast,_ Minho's tiny moans filling the room alongside the sound of the old bed frame creaking.

Minho bit his own lip hard, doing his absolute best to muffle the noises bubbling in his throat, but it was difficult now that Jisung was repeatedly nailing his prostate. He instead tried to focus on the feeling of the silk against his wrists, holding him at Jisung's mercy. He intertwined his own fingers to give himself some sort of grounding—but abruptly froze, suddenly grazing across the cold material of the ring enclosed around his finger. His eyes filled with tears at the reminder.

He was now Jisung's. Forever. 

"Jisungie," he choked out, a tear slipping down his cheek. "Come down here."

Jisung groaned, unable to help himself from shuddering at the sight of a teary Minho gazing at him like he held the universe in his hands. He moved so he was pressed down against Minho again rather than up on his knees, brushing the tear away with his thumb and pulling the elder into a languid kiss.

"Why are you crying, baby?" he murmured against Minho's lips, easing his thrusts a little, but Minho yelped in protest, wrapping his legs securely around Jisung's waist to keep him buried deep.

"I love you," is all Minho said, voice tiny, pouting his lips for more kisses, which Jisung gave him without question.

"I love you more," Jisung whispered, sucking at his tongue and pushing one of his legs so it was hooked over his shoulder.

" _Jisung_."

"Quiet."

"Fa-Faster."

"Only if you stay quiet."

"I will. Promise."

He didn't stay quiet, but Jisung adored the little noises he made as he fell apart too much to scold him. Instead, he silenced him with kisses, short and gentle in comparison to the very _not gentle_ way he was pounding into Minho now. Minho's whines quickly turned high pitched and became nearly constant—which didn't help Jisung keep himself under control in the slightest.

" _Fuck,_ baby, I'm gonna cum," he whispered, moaning into Minho's neck. Minho was mindblowingly tight, even more-so than normal considering they hadn't had time for this sort of thing in _at least_ a month. Minho was almost always hurt from his little _outings,_ and Jisung was almost always stressed sick from the endless possibilities of what could go wrong.

But now, right now, everything was perfect. Minho shook with pleasure, breathing out moans directly into Jisung's ear, and Jisung buried himself further into his neck, whining pitifully against his damp skin as he approached his orgasm.

" _Gonna_..." Jisung huffed, forcing himself off of Minho to pull out. "Gonna cum."

Minho stopped him with his thighs again, staring up with wide, pleading eyes.

" _Inside_ ," he whispered.

Jisung groaned. "Minho..."

He hardly ever came inside Minho. They didn't have a plug or anything of the sort, and they never really had the time to deal with the mess that came along with it. But the way Minho was blinking up at him desperately, lower lip falling into a pout...

" _Please,_ it's my _birthday._ "

Jisung exhaled, wordlessly giving in and gripping Minho's hips tight as he pushed back in and plowed into him twice as hard. His thrusts were relentless, and he could tell from the way Minho's head fell back and eyes squeezed shut that the elder was close to cumming as well. His own eyes fluttered shut, too, the sight of Minho spread below him already burned into his mind permanently. With just a few more hard thrusts, he was throwing his head back with a moan, cum flowing deep inside Minho.

" _Fuck_ ," Minho cried, jaw slackening at the feeling. Jisung forced his hips to keep moving, peeling his eyes open so he could watch Minho fall apart for the second time. He wrapped a shaky hand around the older boy's cock, jerking him off hard and fast.

Minho looked up at him dazedly, mouth still parted open in bliss. "Ki-Kiss."

Jisung dipped down compliantly, threading the fingers of his free hand through Minho's hair and tugging the way he knew the elder liked as he kissed him again. That was seemingly all Minho needed to tip over the edge—he came almost instantly into Jisung's hand with a loud cry, body arching dramatically to chase the sensation.

Jisung hushed him with more kisses, though it was mostly one-sided; Minho's mouth was lax as he panted from the force of his orgasm.

"Good boy," Jisung mumbled against his mouth, giving him one more soft kiss before sitting up and slowly pulling out, caressing Minho's side as the elder shuddered hard. His hands went for the silk, then, carefully undoing the knot. Minho pouted up at him as he removed the restraint, but he quickly made grabby hands the moment his wrists were freed, pulling his fiancé down to his lips again.

Jisung was unable to help himself as he sucked on Minho's lower lip, addicted to the way he shook underneath him, small and pliant and overall the complete opposite of how he was out on the streets.

"I love you," Minho breathed, arms tightly wound around Jisung's neck. "...'M sorry I was late."

"Hey, shh, don't apologize now." Jisung kissed down his neck, reluctantly getting up from the bed to grab a washcloth from the bathroom. He rushed back and plopped down next to Minho to gently wipe him off before carelessly throwing the washcloth across the room.

Minho whimpered, instantly clinging to the younger, throwing a leg over his waist as they cuddled close. Jisung pressed a kiss to the top of Minho's head, the two of them lying in comfortable silence, Minho grabbing his phone from the other side of the bed to check the time.

"Just turned midnight," he murmured. Jisung smiled, hugging him tightly to his chest.

"Happy birthday, angel," he whispered. "I love you so much."

Just then, Minho's phone buzzed. He jolted in surprise, squinting to read the texts as Jisung shifted around, nuzzling into his neck and pressing soft kisses there.

 **Unknown Number** : _Happy birthday, Minho_.

 **Unknown Number** : _We’re outside your precious hotel. You have 5 minutes before we break in_.

Minho's eyes widened, flitting to Jisung to make sure he wasn't paying any attention as he quickly typed back.

 **Lee Minho** : _Who is this?_

 **Unknown Number** : _Want us to take your little pet?_

His stomach dropped. Jisung stopped kissing his neck, pulling away to try and see what Minho was looking at. "Who's texting you, honey?"

Minho abruptly locked his phone, leaning down to kiss Jisung hard.

"It's my cousin," he whispered, trying to keep his voice stable, incredibly thankful that the room was too dimly lit for Jisung to be able to detect the lie in his face. "Wanted to wish me a happy birthday."

"Oh, that's nice of him. You never told me you were still in contact."

"We talk sometimes," Minho rushed. "I told him I'd call and catch up, so I'm gonna go out in the hallway, okay?"

Jisung hummed, giving Minho a warning look. "Be careful."

Minho didn't answer, only forced himself out of bed, wincing at the sharp pain in his lower back and the cum that was now seeping out of him. _Fantastic timing_. He tried not to appear too frantic as he slipped out of the bathrobe and tugged on sweatpants and one of Jisung's tee shirts.

He glanced at the younger to make sure he wasn't watching as he went for the spare knife in his suitcase and swiftly slid it under his waistline.

"Do-Don't stay up for me," he mumbled, covering his stutter with a cough as he crossed over to the bed and cupped Jisung's face in his hands.

"Alright, but be careful, babe."

Minho hummed, thumbs stroking Jisung's cheeks. His heart sank at the way the younger stared up at him with trusting stars in his eyes. Jisung frowned a little, quickly noticing the falter in his fiancé's expression.

"What is it, Minho?"

Minho smiled softly.

"One more kiss?"

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for staying till the end; it means a lot! i had a lot of fun planning and writing this fic, so if you enjoyed it, please feel free to let me know. if you hated it... honestly i don't care cause i had a ball writing this LOL. i had a lot of ideas for this fic-verse, so it's possible that i'll post a few self-indulgent spin off scenes someday in the future.
> 
> and thank you to @[minsungseason](https://www.twitter.com/minsungseason) for running this event so smoothly! this was the first fic event i've participated in, and i’m glad i decided to join :D
> 
> ★ nsfw twt: @[hanknowz](https://www.twitter.com/hanknowz)   
>  ★ sfw twt: @[leeknwoz](https://www.twitter.com/leeknwoz)   
>  ★ curiouscat: [hanknowz](https://curiouscat.qa/hanknowz)


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